


Landmark

by TeamDamon



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: All right kids get ready to be sad, Bucky is moving on, EG Steve is a MAGA loving boomer and I should say it, I hope, M/M, Other, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Title inspired by Jonathan Groff’s Lost in the Woods, and he’s cutting his hair because that’s what you do, but anyway, but like the good kind, he sad but he’s getting there, this is not EG Steve friendly, yes from Frozen 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamDamon/pseuds/TeamDamon
Summary: After rinsing off the razor in his hand and setting it aside, Bucky lifted a soft white towel to his face and gently patted it dry. His full beard now gone, he lowered the towel and stared into his reflection in the mirror, unsure of quite who was looking back at him.Then again, he wasn’t sure of much of anything these days.—Post Endgame, Bucky finds himself. AKA the emotional hair-cutting scene we deserve that Marvel probably won’t give us.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Landmark

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I listen to the Frozen 2 soundtrack nonstop and new pics of Bucky & Sam get released. I regret nothing. 
> 
> Also, EG Steve can die :)

After rinsing off the razor in his hand and setting it aside, Bucky lifted a soft white towel to his face and gently patted it dry. His full beard now gone, he lowered the towel and stared into his reflection in the mirror, unsure of quite who was looking back at him. 

Then again, he wasn’t sure of much of anything these days. 

He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, slightly turning his head from side to side and finding that no matter the angle, nothing felt right. His face was full of artificial youth thanks to the serum in his veins, smooth skin and clear eyes covering up enough scars for ten lifetimes, and it made him feel like a stranger to himself. 

He looked down at his hands, turning both palms up, and finding that his right arm felt as foreign as his metal one. His pursed his lips, curling both hands into fists and then raising his eyes back to his reflection. 

His long hair was damp and curling at the ends, brushing his shoulders in its length. Once upon a time, not long ago - well, he supposed it was over five years ago now, though he’d missed that space of time - he’d planned to grow it as long as it would go, but not because he preferred such long locks. No, he actually found it rather annoying and tiresome to maintain, but it was more than worth it when it meant feeling long fingers playing and caressing through them. 

“ _Mm,” Steve groaned against the top of Bucky’s head, fingertips combing through sweat dampened hair, their bodies sated for now but not for long. “God you smell so good.”_

_Bucky chuckled against Steve’s chest, eyes closed and heart full of bliss. “Yeah, if you like sweat and lube, I guess.”_

“ _Shut up,” Steve chuckled back, kissing his forehead and then burying his nose into Bucky’s hair. “Smells like... God, what is that? Never smelled anything like it...”_

“ _It’s a Wakandan secret,” Bucky teased. “Classified.”_

_“Maybe it’s just you,” Steve mused._

_“Nah. Definitely the shampoo.”_

_Steve huffed a laugh, still running his fingers through the strands. “Getting so long.”_

_“Yeah,” Bucky yawned, eyes still closed. “Need to get a trim.”_

_“Uh uh,” Steve murmured to the contrary. “I love it. Let it grow.”_

“ _You’re crazy. Gonna brush it for me when it’s down to my feet?”_

_“Definitely,” Steve promised, reaching down and tipping Bucky’s chin up to lay a kiss on his lips. Bucky grinned into the kiss, breath hitching when Steve’s tongue brushed his and slowly coaxed them both into a third round for the night._

But that had been a lie, of course. And it was far from the only one, hardly the only promise that Steve had broken. 

Bucky had grown his hair longer for Steve, just like so many of his other decisions through the years. Returning to war after narrowly escaping death at Zola’s hands, pulling Steve from the river, staying alive in Romania rather than let his demons and trauma get the better of him, marching to war against Thanos and giving his life for the second time... all of it had always been for Steve. Always. 

Hadn’t Steve known that? Hadn’t he known that he was Bucky’s only landmark in a strange world that he had no place in? Hadn’t he known that the end of the line meant something? 

Before, Bucky never would have wondered such things. He always knew, always trusted Steve even when he couldn’t remember his own name. Steve was his anchor, his only sense of direction in a world and life that wasn’t his own, and now that he was gone - now that he had  _chosen_ to  _leave_ Bucky  _forever_ , for a dead woman who’d already had a family and life of her own - so was a piece of Bucky. 

He only became aware of his death grip on the sink when it began to nearly crumble beneath his fingers - the fingers of his right hand. He let go and hastily wiped away a few tears that had managed to escape his eyes, his momentary lapse into despair quickly being replaced by anger as he looked at his reflection again. 

He couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t make Steve choose different, couldn’t change him back into the real Steve Rogers that he’d always loved. He couldn’t change the fact that Steve had always been the sun to his moon, but he  could change what happened from here on out. He could reclaim himself, piece himself back together, and by God he deserved that much, didn’t he? 

After rummaging through a few drawers Bucky found what he was looking for - a pair of razor sharp shears. He didn’t think twice before running a comb through his hair and dividing it into two halves over his shoulders, the first section he pinched between his metal fingers a bit haphazard but he didn’t care. He took the scissors to the section and started cutting, and once he started he couldn’t stop. He went rough section by section, cutting shorter and shorter with each stroke, filling the sink with chunks of shorn hair, ignoring when a stray tear or two splashed next to one. 

By the time that he was done he looked more like a sugar-drunk toddler who’d gotten hold of their parent’s scissors than a deadly super soldier, but it didn’t even matter - he felt better already. He felt lighter, newer, maybe even a little less lost somehow, and he knew it didn’t make sense but he found he just simply didn’t care. 

Then came a soft knock at the bathroom door, followed by, “Hey man, you all right? You’ve been in there for awhile...”

Bucky sighed and took a look at himself again, able to admit when he needed some help. He leaned over and unlocked the door and let it swing open, watching as Sam’s eyes landed on him and, rather comically, widened to the size of saucers. 

“Okay. Wow. That’s... a look.”

Bucky managed a small grin and held the scissors out. “Mind giving me a hand?”

About twenty minutes later, the sink was even fuller and Bucky felt even lighter, still unsure of quite who was looking back at him in the mirror. Sam unplugged the clippers he’d used to clean the cut up and even it all out and said, “All right, I’m no barber but hey... not gonna lie, you’re looking pretty sharp. Like a new man.”

Bucky allowed himself a small smile, the short haired fresh faced man in the mirror looking a little more like the Bucky who’d died in 1945... but not quite. And that was fine, after all. He’d never be that man again. He wasn’t really sure who he was, or what the future would make of him. 

But that was okay. The man in the mirror was free now, his mind and decisions his own and nobody else’s, and he’d find his way somehow. All on his own. 

Well... maybe not  _quite_ all on his own. 

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Hey, no problem,” Sam replied, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. “Next time you need a hand how about you just ask me first before you go making a mess of yourself?”

Bucky grinned and nodded, and Sam grinned back before walking out of the bathroom and leaving Bucky alone once more as he stared into the mirror. 

He might be lost now, but one day he’d be found. He might even be broken, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t heal. And until then, for the first time... he’d be his own landmark in the world. 


End file.
